


Beyond Convention

by MudaMuda



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anglo-Japanese Alliance, Caning, Edwardian Period, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Historical, Japan, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 16:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14675403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MudaMuda/pseuds/MudaMuda
Summary: The year is 1906, and bare ankles are still considered scandalous in England. Luckily, Arthur is in Japan for the summer, where the rules regarding footwear are looser, and Kiku inadvertently gives him a lot to look at.But not without consequence.





	Beyond Convention

**Author's Note:**

> I've been requested to show this awful, degenerate fic to the public, so ...........  
> ......you know I had to do it to em  
> We all know Arthur’s a pervert, and I wrote this with the intention of encompassing that perversity, but I think I took it too far. Or at least in a direction I didn't expect.

Arthur’s fixation began one day in June when Kiku suggested they visit the Atago shrine in Tokyo.

While gazing at the scenery, he had fallen a few steps behind Kiku, who continued ascending the steep column of stairs to the gate. Unconsciously, Arthur’s eyes were drawn to what was right in front of them: Kiku’s legs. Even hidden beneath _kimono_ they rivalled the scenery for beauty; lithe and well-proportioned where the fabric curved against his stride to reveal their shape.

As Arthur admired them, the breeze stirred the hem of the kimono, fluttering the silk against Kiku’s ankles. The wind gradually increased, until the kimono billowed and flapped around Kiku’s calves. Arthur realized he was leering and looked away briefly, only to turn his eyes right back.

It wasn’t such a display of bad etiquette for a man to show off his bare legs under kimono, as it was for a woman, so Kiku made no move to cover himself.

With legs as lovely as Kiku’s, it was shocking nonetheless.

Certainly, Arthur was scandalized upon discovering that, due to the gusting wind and sharp incline of the stairs, by standing several steps below, he could look up his kimono and see nearly to his thighs.

It was a quite a walk up the many steps, and they went slowly, to Arthur’s silent embarrassment, because for all that length, even a glance forward would be met with miles of Kiku’s exposed flesh.

By the time they reached the top, they were both winded, and Kiku suggested they rest a bit. They found a bench in the shade and sat side by side. Arthur rolled his sleeves up another centimeter to cool his arms. Kiku slid his sandals off. The sides of both feet bore bright red marks where the straps had rubbed.

“They don’t fit quite correctly,” explained Kiku apologetically, in response to Arthur’s stare.

“We could have stopped,” suggested Arthur, in a pitiful attempt to distract from his abashment that Kiku was revealing yet _more_ of his skin.

Kiku murmured another apology, as he bent down and took one foot in hand, massaging the injured area.

Utterly distracted, Arthur abandoned fastening his sleeves in favor of watching Kiku attend to his foot. The sight of Kiku caressing his sole, his toes curling as he massaged a sensitive area, was unexpectedly appealing.

Arthur had noticed before that Kiku had small, dainty feet, and had always thought they were rather nice, but he hadn’t taken the time to admire them at length.

And now he was berating himself for not paying them attention, because Kiku's were undeniably lovely. Not only small and delicate, but _smooth._ The unblemished skin was as white and soft-looking as those _daifuku_ confections. Yes, they resembled the sweet daifuku so much, he wanted to kneel down, take his foot in hand, and put a bite in the creamy, supple skin.

Arthur cleared his throat, and forced himself to avert his eyes.

Seeing Kiku’s bare legs and feet was not new. In fact, he saw them often, while Kiku was bathing in the _onsen,_ and nearly every time they had sex.

But in public… in public, there was something absolutely indecent about seeing them.

In Japan, bare feet in public in the summer wouldn’t be looked askance, the way they would in England.

In cold, rainy England, the elements usually didn’t allow bare feet and… it just wasn’t _done_ to walk around in public like that. Even in the summer. It was shocking initially to see people not covering their feet as much in Japan. Everyone in Europe kept their feet covered, stockinged and booted, with exceptions like going to the beach and… well, the bedroom. In private.

As an Englishman, Arthur conceded that it was perfectly natural to want to stare, not being so used to showing bare skin as Kiku was. There was no help for it.

Kiku seemed to have finished, and he slid back into his sandals with a wince.

“Why not leave them off?” asked Arthur.

“People will stare.”

“You’re practically barefoot as it is.”

“It is unclean,” said Kiku. He surreptitiously glanced around at the passers-by before carefully stepping back out onto the sun-warmed path.

Arthur understood. Kiku would rather cut himself to pieces before dirtying his feet, or worse still, give a slovenly impression. Unflinching attention to propriety was something to which Arthur could relate.

But as he watched Kiku pad away, flashing his pretty, slender ankles with every step, Arthur knew this was one difference in propriety that would be impossible for him to normalize anytime soon.

  


Since that day, Arthur had paid an unreasonable amount of attention to Kiku’s feet. But perhaps this was in part due to how much attention Kiku paid to them himself.

Arthur took care to notice Kiku walking in pristine white _tabi_ , every step prim and dainty, neatly tucking his heels under his backside to sit during meals and tea. He noticed Kiku’s scrupulous attention to maintaining absolutely immaculate floors, and the much-dreaded reproachful click of his tongue whenever Arthur forgot to remove his shoes before entering his house.

He noticed in the onsen, when Kiku had finished soaking, how he stood, and droplets slid down his legs, over his ankles as he stepped out. His skin was flushed from being immersed in hot water, his blushing soles leaving wet footprints behind on the rocks.

What had started as shock turned to admiration, and admiration to outright lust.

Soon, Arthur was perpetually aroused. The hot summer weather gave Kiku many excuses to go around barefoot, or nearly, which gave Arthur equally many opportunities to ogle.

  


July brought monsoons to the southern islands, leaving a flood of lush greenery in their wake. When the rains were over, the air turned dense with humidity and the intermittent whining of cicadas. On a day as hot as this, Kiku and Arthur remained inside, lolling around on the floor, drinking chilled barley tea.

Arthur had tucked himself into an alcove, sitting on a low panel of dark wood that served as a type of shelf. The wood was a bit cooler compared to the tatami, where Kiku was lying.

There was a rustle of paper as Kiku turned the page of the novel he was reading.

Arthur peered over the top of his newspaper at Kiku, who rested on his belly an arm's length away, engrossed in his book. Kiku had kicked his legs up, sliding his feet together absentmindedly. The hem of his yukata had slipped down to rest in the crook of his knees. The robe was belted loosely, like Kiku would tie it when he came out of the bath or was going to bed. Not a proper bow like he would tie when he was going out.

The brutal humidity caused the thin, cotton yukata to wilt against his damp skin, clinging to his backside and shoulder blades. Bare, with absolutely no lines beneath his robe to indicate the presence of undergarments. In this heat, Arthur supposed that was to be expected.

Kiku's posture exuded sensuality with an unassuming grace. Even in the most casual circumstances Kiku never acted straightforwardly, but Arthur could not imagine this was an attempt to seduce him.

More likely his overactive imagination, eager for titillation, had begun to make suppositions about Kiku's intent.

Arthur had only turned up his cuffs and unbuttoned his collar against the heat, but now he wondered if that would be sufficient to cool him down.

Agonized, he watched those perfect feet dangle within reach, providing dangerous temptation. Their soft-looking skin beckoned, and he ached to touch them. Excluding the faint ‘y’s of white where his sandal straps had lain, the summer sun had tanned his feet a warm golden color.

Kiku _slowly_ rubbed his feet together, and Arthur’s cock pulsed. Stifling a moan of yearning, he stared as Kiku flexed his toes, rolling one ankle and then the other, before crossing them.

Watching this felt terribly voyeuristic, but Arthur was helpless to stop. He knew he could reach out and grab them right now, rub them and kiss them. Have a taste of that delicate skin.

He wondered what Kiku would do. Would he accept a storm of kisses and touches, allowing Arthur to stimulate himself?

When they slept together nowadays, Kiku never seemed to think it odd that Arthur would give his ankles a kiss or two (or several) when they were near his face. But if Kiku thought he was getting too overzealous, would he kick him away in disgust?

Every time Arthur thought about confessing his fetish, his resolve was forced down by his fear of being thought of as a degenerate, of having the person he admired realize he had been harboring a filthy desire for months. Too meek to act on his interest, he had withdrawn into his own fantasies, which had been enough to satisfy him until he worked up some courage.

 _Except_ , he thought bitterly, he hadn't found the courage all summer.

But maybe he could be bolder now. After all, Kiku couldn’t see anything he was doing behind the newspaper.

With a trembling hand, Arthur brushed his fingers over his cock, feeling it twitch through his trousers. Getting a grip on his shaft through his trousers proved difficult with the way his palms were sweating. Caution and sense urged him to be satisfied with rubbing himself discreetly over his trousers if he insisted upon pleasuring himself practically in front of Kiku, but every other part of his consciousness knew that would never properly satisfy him.

As innocuously as possible, he unfastened each button on his trousers until the tightness in the crotch lessened enough for him to access his erection. Pulling the waist of his drawers down, he licked his palm and grasped his cock. He took a few cautious pumps to be certain no suspicious slapping or rustling would be audible to the object of his desire.

When his test proved satisfactory, he went at it with abandon. Sweet, heavenly pleasure enveloped him.

A line of sweat trickled from his forehead down the side of his face. He wanted to wipe it away, but didn’t want to stop a second from his stroking. And he was already so close. He had been so aroused, he knew he could come easily if he kept this up.

His fantasies devolved into thoughts of Kiku pressing both feet on either side of his cock and stroking in tandem, gently teasing him about how much of a pervert he was. Arthur wished desperately that there was some way to replicate this motion with his hands. All he could do was stare and imagine. Imagine those _slowly_ flexing toes curled around his cock, jerking up and down at the same languid speed that they were--

Yes, exactly like they were--

They…

Kiku was--!

Arthur’s heart plummeted into his stomach as he realized the little suggestive rubbing motions Kiku was making with his feet weren’t his imagination.

By the time Arthur realized this meant Kiku had caught on, it was too late.

Kiku had his face turned towards him with an inquiring expression.

“W-what?” Arthur sputtered unintelligently, as he resurfaced from his state of lustful concentration. There had to be some way to salvage this.

“You’re staring so intently,” said Kiku, marking his place in the novel and placing it down.

“I’m hot,” said Arthur, regretting it as soon as it left his mouth.

“I see,” said Kiku. His voice was hardly more than a whisper.

Arthur swallowed. “Yes, well…”

He tried to change the subject to dissuade Kiku’s interest, but Kiku rose up on his hands and knees and crawled closer on all fours until Arthur could feel his warm breath against his wrist. Kiku slunk between his open thighs, his mouth mere centimeters from his erection behind the newspaper.

Kiku reached up, and hooked his finger around the top of the paper. He drew it down with a crinkle, craning his neck to peek over the top.

With his dripping, stiff cock firmly in hand, Arthur made a guilty picture.

Humiliation coursed through him as he watched Kiku’s lips part and his eyes go wide. Then, the expression softened into coy interest, like he had been expecting to see such a thing, and was pleased he had been right. Arthur had no idea whether he was supposed to feel relieved by this reaction or not, but either way it did not lessen the flush on his cheeks.

He remained still, keeping his eyes trained on Kiku’s rounded mouth to avoid meeting his stare. The crinkle the paper made as Kiku took it from him and set it aside was all that broke the tense silence.

Realizing he should make an effort to appear decent now that his little foray into debauchery had ended, Arthur modestly cast his eyes down, cleared his throat and moved to tuck his cock away and apologize.

“Wait,” demanded Kiku.

Arthur's neck prickled with shame, and he obediently drew his hands back to rest flat on his thighs.   

Kiku’s eyes were on his cock.

“My, my,” he said, his breath warm against Arthur’s erection. “Why were you doing such a thing?”

Arthur began to babble an excuse.

“I’m... just hot. It’s the-- the heat is riling me up, and you looked so comfortable there, I-- I didn't want--” _You to notice_ , he finished internally, losing the mental fortitude to speak without stuttering as Kiku leant forward and laved his tongue up the underside of his cock.

“Is that so?” whispered Kiku.  

His dark eyes remained fixed on Arthur’s face. Arthur’s half-lie would have been enough to convince anyone else that he was hiding nothing, but Kiku was ruthlessly perceptive. Even the slightest tremor of uncertainty never escaped Kiku’s notice. And absolutely, he had noticed Arthur’s fixation, but Arthur would be damned before he let Kiku intimidate him into explaining the whole, awful truth. So he faced Kiku’s disbelieving countenance and said, “That’s right.”

For his answer, he received a slow, incomprehensible nod that he hoped meant Kiku had opted to leave the topic alone. But Kiku’s gaze had not left his face.

 _Damn him,_ thought Arthur, growing redder by the second. _He’s really expecting me to say it plainly. Whatever happened to respecting indirection? Is he trying to humiliate me?_

Arthur shifted. Averted his eyes. Cleared his throat.

“Anyway,” he said. “I suppose that’s--”

“Lie down,” said Kiku.

“What?”

“On your back, please,” Kiku whispered, ever polite, but with such unflinching austerity that Arthur’s spine tingled, sensing the punishment even a word of resistance would provoke.

“I--” he stuttered. “Right here?”

Kiku blinked slowly. “If you please.”

Oh, that look!

Arthur couldn’t refuse, when Kiku eyed him with all the calm, contained ire of a governess about to punish a naughty child, radiant with deadly contempt, like he was going to thrash him until he was perfectly behaved again.

Despite his indignation that Kiku was trying to pry his dirty secret from him, the threat of being bullied to confession had Arthur blushing like a schoolboy, considering the methods of discipline Kiku could inflict.

Under Kiku’s burning stare, he shuffled out from the alcove and reclined on the tatami beside him.

“Like this?” he asked, once situated.

Kiku said nothing, but stood up and left the room. He returned with his hands full, and Arthur’s heart pounded at the sight of what he’d brought.

From Kiku’s fingers dangled a coiled length of red jute and a strip of silk the same color.

 

By the time Arthur was stripped naked, bound wrist to ankle with his legs spread so he couldn’t close them, and had his vision obscured by silk, his cock was fully tense with anticipation. It stood erect, jutting out from between his legs. Despite having been naked in front of Kiku many times before, he felt extraordinarily exposed.

He could sense Kiku’s eyes on him, being drawn to his cock.

Arthur heard him stand, the hem of his robe swishing against the tatami. Soft, even steps followed as Kiku paced around him. The sensation of being keenly examined in his vulnerable state made the hairs on Arthur’s skin rise. Kiku would never hurt him badly without permission, but this felt like an interrogation was about to occur.

At least, that was what he thought, before Kiku pushed his foot against his cock.

The noise of surprise Arthur made was shameful, but nothing compared to the shame he felt when his cock twitched hard at the contact.

“Rub against it,” said Kiku.

Arthur tentatively stayed right where he was.

“ _Thrust your hips,_ pervert,” ordered Kiku.

Arthur was trying so hard not to thrust, his legs shook. He had dreamed about humping his foot, getting off like that, but when it came to it, he realized he could never do something so humiliating. And with every second he refused to obey, he could feel Kiku’s displeasure radiating down.

“You won’t?” asked Kiku. “You'll try to deny it? How difficult...”

He spoke gently, but there was a force behind the gentleness. Harsh words spoken in a quiet, unassuming purr. The sound tickled Arthur’s nerves, made him feel horribly ashamed that he had to restrain himself from thrusting his hips, while Kiku was so collected.

“Do you not like the feeling of it raw?” Kiku asked. “It’s bare against your cock.”

He started slowly rubbing, and Arthur went weak.

He envisioned the underside of Kiku’s raised thigh, his stiff cock bouncing a bit between his legs-- his lovely, slender legs-- Was Kiku getting off on this as well?

He rotated the tip of his foot under the head of Arthur’s cock in little languid circles. The steady massaging of this one spot was much too stimulating, and Kiku knew this. With every jolt of Arthur’s thighs, every weak groan of protest, Kiku’s movements became more vigorous until Arthur was panting and rocking his hips as he had been ordered. Precum oozed from the tip and was smeared up and down the length of his member with lewd, wet noises as Kiku held him underfoot.  

Good God, Arthur would have given anything at this moment to watch.

But even a peek at his dainty feet would have intensified his desperation, and perhaps sent him over the edge. To see that divine foot rubbing his cock and slathering itself in his sticky fluids, to know that Kiku was the one doing such a naughty thing… it would be too much.

Kiku granted him no warning before he pushed his foot harder against his cock. Arthur started, his entire body jolting. Kiku was restrained, always restrained, but there was force behind the restraint that left Arthur quivering in fear and anticipation. His most sensitive parts were being stepped on by a person who was very angry with him. Kiku had so much power over him at this moment, and he utilized it. He revelled in it.

He put more weight on Arthur’s cock.

A plea burst from Arthur’s mouth but he did not know what he was begging of Kiku. Sweat dampened his forehead, impatience burst from every part of his being as the pressure on his cock increased until it was almost unbearable. Arms straining against their bonds, legs thrashing; it was a useless fight and Arthur was delighted.

“Are you ready to admit it?” Kiku asked. “What you're thinking about?”

Arthur’s answer fell from his mouth before he could think: “Your perfect feet against my cock.”

Kiku dug his heel in, eliciting sharp, throbbing pain. Arthur grit his teeth and moaned as Kiku punished him for his improper response.

“You are obscene.” _Grind._ “You are a degenerate.” _Grind._ “How could you take pleasure from this?” Kiku asked.

Arthur was gasping. “It hurts...”

“Your filthy dick does not seem to agree,” said Kiku.

He rubbed him with firm strokes, pushing his foot up and down the shaft and giving special attention to the tip. Arthur’s body responded with a wild urgency, his back arching, hips springing up. His cock throbbed with pain, but it was so good, coming from Kiku. He needed to be punished; being lavished with Kiku’s attention was more than he deserved. Panting hard, he rocked his hips and tried to bring himself off against Kiku’s foot, tried to bring the sensation in his cock to its absolute breaking point.

Perhaps he was enjoying himself too much for Kiku's liking, because, to his dismay, the rubbing stopped. Slowly, deliberately slowly, Kiku lifted his foot off. He tortured him, drawing his toes along the length of his cock, before removing it entirely. As it was peeled away, Arthur could feel warm strands of his pre ejaculate stretch and snap between his shaft and the underside of Kiku's foot. He could feel how wet he had gotten Kiku’s foot; how thoroughly he had enjoyed it.

 

Now Kiku let him be, refusing to touch him, allowing the heavy silence to linger. This period of respite caused Arthur to realize that his arms were numb from being lain on, his legs ached from tensing them so hard, and every part of his body in contact with the tatami was dripping with sweat. This discomfort was all his own doing, however. Now that he was being denied of touch, he understood that Kiku had given him nothing but pleasure.

Between his own heavy breaths, Arthur heard Kiku suck his teeth in thought, then shuffling at his sides as Kiku stood over him with his legs apart. He dragged his foot over Arthur’s chest, drawing the tips of his toes lightly over the skin, from pelvis to throat. Arthur tried to kiss it, but every time he got close, Kiku moved his foot just out of reach. With his mouth, Arthur chased it stubbornly, hungrily; gasping with eagerness as Kiku dangled it in front of his face; letting his toes brush his cheek.

“Kiku. Please,” rasped Arthur. “Don’t tease me.”

“You’ve behaved improperly. You have to learn discipline.”

“Please… _please._ ”

“You keep begging, but for what?”

“Ah…” panted Arthur, darting his tongue out to give Kiku’s toes a lick as Kiku passed them over his lips.

“You’ve lost your nerve,” Kiku murmured, sliding his toes down the length of Arthur’s neck, then back up to his cheek.

“Kiku, I want… I want it so badly…”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

Arthur swallowed. “May I please... _please…_ cum on your feet? A-and, afterwards, lick up every drop?”

The prospect was so tantalizing, yet so humiliating that he had trouble voicing it. Even Kiku seemed to be struck dumb, as he was silent for a few seconds. Then, the toes against Arthur’s cheek crooked with a slow, pensive effect.

“How interesting,” Kiku mused, pressing his foot down onto Arthur’s temple and turning his head to the side. “That’s what you want?”

“ _Yes_ ,” moaned Arthur, insensible to the danger in Kiku’s tone. “May I?”

Kiku stepped down harder and worked his heel in, grinding Arthur’s face against the floor. A half-delighted whimper broke from Arthur’s throat.

“You may not,” said Kiku.

A stick pressed the inside of Arthur’s thigh.

Kiku had brought a bloody cane with him.

Made of either bamboo or rattan, it was slim, and smooth, and felt exceptionally wicked.

Whatever it was, it was about to be used on him, and Arthur’s breath heightened as Kiku drew the tip across his prickling flesh. The ropes around his ankles creaked as he instinctively tried to move away from the instrument.

The rod swished, and eight strokes in quick succession were delivered to the inside of each of his thighs.

Arthur could hardly think to cry out, before it was over, leaving him struck tense with pain, his mouth hanging open. His shout caught in his throat, dying in a hiss as he clenched his teeth. The skin sizzled as the sting set in, sharp pain dissolving into throbbing heat bleeding into his groin.

He lolled his head back, moaning softly in pleasure.

From above, Kiku clicked his tongue at him.

“Shameful. Not only a pervert, but a masochist too.”

Kiku whisked the rod just between his thigh and pelvis, catching the delicate skin there.

Exquisite pain resounded from the area, as Kiku did it again, and again, all around his cock and on either side of his groin until Arthur was begging for mercy.

Arthur felt he was floating, high from bliss. The spreading warmth from the caning, and the violent kneading of his cheek under the sole of Kiku’s foot were too much.

Gratified tears wet the blindfold, mingling with the sweat dripping from his forehead. The sting from every lash went straight to his cock, shooting heat from base to tip. He was so close to the edge, being humiliated and tortured and _still_ aching to feel Kiku’s feet massaging his cock until he lost himself in climax.

“Please, no, I don’t want to come like this,” Arthur begged.

“Listen to yourself, howling like a dog in heat.”

“Punish me all you want, as long as I can cum on your feet. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything you say.”

Finally, the movement of the stick ceased. Kiku hummed.

“Will you?”

“Yes! yes!”

Kiku raised his leg marginally, removing some of the weight from Arthur’s face.

“Kiss it,” he demanded.

Arthur felt the side of Kiku’s foot brush his lips. Ravenously, he gave it a lick up to the ankle, ending with a nibble.

Kiku shoved his heel against Arthur’s chin, closing his mouth so hard his teeth clacked together.

“ _Kiss_ it,” he repeated.

Arthur pressed his lips to the sole, smothering it with kisses, struggling to hold himself back from using his teeth and tongue.

“Slowly,” said Kiku. “Thank me for going out of my way to please you.”

“Th-thank you,” said Arthur, ecstatic with eagerness.  


When Kiku was satisfied, he poured oil over Arthur’s cock. Arthur shivered at the surprising coolness of the thick fluid sliding down his shaft.

Kiku situated himself between Arthur’s legs and proceeded to give him a wet, sloppy footjob.

Better, so much better than merely being stepped on, Kiku pleasured him, dragging his feet over his cock in tandem, mimicking motions he would use with his hands, evoking sensations that made Arthur’s limbs weak. The sounds of oil slapping and slicking between skin, the softness and warmth of his feet; the combined stimulation was too much to bear.

Kiku had continued to tease him, but gently this time, giving his voice a little hitch; his silky murmurs lulling him into a paralysis of arousal.

“It's so hot,” he purred. “It's throbbing so hard. Are you ready to cum? I’ll make sure to coax it _all_ out.”

The only time he broke his tone was when Arthur began _begging_ to watch. Everything, everything but the sight of Kiku jerking him off with his feet was being given to him.

Kiku said, with the same gentle tone, “You know what my feet look like, pervert.”

Arthur did. In his mind, he envisioned what they looked like, slick with oil and sticky with his precome, rubbing up and down his shaft. Before he could manage to gain control of his wicked fantasies, a furious orgasm took over. Arthur could not take any more stimulation, and cum shot from his aching cock.

“There's so much,” Kiku mused.

Arthur’s cock kept spasming and he had a long, slow orgasm. Kiku kept rubbing, easing off as it slowed to a trickle and Arthur squirmed with sensitivity.

Wet skin pressed hard against his lips.

“Lick it up,” Kiku demanded.

Without hesitation, Arthur slid his tongue against the underside of his foot, and sucked his toes. The cum and the bitter oil were unpleasant to taste, but damned if he didn’t lick up every bit with delight.

Once he licked both feet clean, he lay back, exhausted.

Kiku crawled onto him, his thighs warm on either side of his waist. A moment later, Arthur felt fingers brush his lips.

“Clean this too, please,” said Kiku.

The taste of Kiku’s cum was different, and Arthur was surprised to taste it.

Happily, he sucked the two dirtied fingers into his mouth, dragging his tongue over the skin between them until they were clean.


End file.
